The chapel and its amenities were charming, while the huge neon sign at the curbside was pure gaudy and typical Las Vegas. Conveniently enough, there was a motel alongside as well as across the street from the chapel. And a bit further down the block was a tall sign advertising strippers twenty-four hours a day.
I paid the cabbie and Gloria and I stepped out of the cab and up onto the sidewalk. We looked at the wedding chapel and all that went with it and then turned toward each other and laughed. It was hokey and full of clichés but still it was exciting as we walked up the sidewalk toward the chapel door. I took a deep breath and then twisted the door handle. I held the door open and Gloria walked in first.
The ceiling was painted to resemble a cloudy blue sky with stars everywhere. Cherubs playing harps lined the sides of the rounded ceiling. There were trellises adorned with fake silk flowers of all colors. I’m sure the aroma of those flowers must have come from a spray can. Ahead of us, another couple was just walking back toward us, having just exchanged their vows and having paid their ninety-nine dollars. It was our turn now and we stepped up to where the preacher dressed like Elvis stood, ceremoniously dressed all in white.
I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that this clown could actually be capable of legally joining Gloria and me in matrimony. I knew what I wanted to say to him after the ceremony, but I was sure he’d heard, ‘thank you, thank you very much,’ in an Elvis voice a million times before. Instead, I just stood there and listened as Elvis opened his white bible and droned on for what was arguably the longest thirty seconds of my life. When he’d finished, Gloria and I both said our, ‘I do’s’ and turned to make our grand exit. On the way out, we stopped at the front counter and I gave the clerk my credit card. She ran it though for the ninety-nine dollars, had me sign their copy and gave me my copy, along with a token gesture of best wishes. If I waited around long enough, I would probably hear her yell out, “Next.”
Gloria and I exited to the street and took in our surroundings. I turned to her and said, “Well, Mrs. Cooper, or is it Ms. Campbell?”
Gloria smiled and said, “It’s Mrs. Cooper, thank you.”
“Well, Mrs. Cooper,” I said again, “Our plane doesn’t leave for L.A. for another two hours. What would you like to do next?”
“You have to agree,” Gloria said, “That it was a gamble doing what we just did, so how about if we stay with that for a little longer and hit some of the casinos?”
I flipped open my wallet and withdrew a crisp, new one hundred dollar bill and held it out to her. “This will be our limit,” I said. “When this is gone, so are we, agreed?”
Gloria snatched the bill from my fingers. “Agreed, Mr. Cooper,” and pulled me by the arm up the street. Almost every commercial enterprise on every block advertised gambling of one sort or another. But we didn’t want to walk into the lobby of some cheap hotel just to try their slot machines. As long as we were here, we wanted to see the big, famously recognizable places that were known around the world. I looked up the street and could see the top of the Luxor, an Egyptian-themed casino. That’s where I wanted to go. I pulled Gloria toward the monument that filled several city blocks.
Inside the ceiling was more than a hundred feet high and left you with the feeling of a wide open space even though you were inside. We hadn’t walked more than a dozen steps when I looked down at the floor and spotted something green. It was a twenty dollar bill. I snapped it up and looked around me. No one else paid the slightest bit of attention to what I’d just done.
“This is going to be my lucky day,” I said, pocketing the bill. “I can just feel it.” I walked up to the nearest cashier and broke the hundred dollar bill that Gloria had been holding. I got five twenties and gave Gloria three of them. “There,” I said. “Now we both have sixty bucks to spend on whatever we want.”
It took only forty-three minutes for the Luxor to add a hundred-twenty dollars to their net worth and just forty-four minutes for Gloria and me to leave the over-sized black glass pyramid casino behind. We caught a cab at the corner and told him to go straight back to the airport. So far, between the discount wedding, two cab rides, forty-three minutes in the casino and four plane tickets, this day had set us back more than five hundred dollars, not counting what it would cost to get my car out of the LAX parking lot. My mental calculator told me that we’d have to work more than three days at the private investigations business just to break even.
Our plane touched down shortly before seven and again our exit had been extradited by not having to deal with any luggage. We found the car, paid for our parking and drove back to the office to check for phone messages before going home. There was only one message on the machine when we got back to the office. It was from Dad, asking where we were and instructing me to call him when we got back. We decided not to return the call, but rather to drive over there and tell him in person.
On the way to Dad’s house Gloria twisted in her seat and turned toward me. “You know, Elliott,” she said. “Something just occurred to me.”
“What’s that?” I said.
“Where are we going to live?” Gloria said. “We both have our own place, and as I see it, that’s now one place too many. So which of us is going to move in with the other?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I said. “Let’s kick it around and see which one seems more practical for us. My place is closer to the office and could save us some money on gas, but your place is bigger and could accommodate my belongings as well as what you already have in there. My place would cost us less to live in, but your place would be ideal if the two of us someday became three. Sounds to me like it’s a horse apiece.”
Gloria wrapped her arm around mine. “Say that last part again,” she told me, a smile creeping onto her face.
“I said it sounds to me like it’s a horse…” I said.
“No,” Gloria said. “The part just before that. You said something about the two of us.”
“I said your place would be ideal if the two of us someday became three,” I repeated.
“Yeah,” Gloria said, sighing. “That was the part. Three of us. Just think about that.”
“But you just remember what we talked about,” I reminded her.
“Huh?” Gloria said.
“About goofy names,” I said. “We both have to agree on a name before we saddle any kid of ours with something he’ll carry around all his life.”
“I remember,” Gloria said. “If we have a boy I was thinking maybe we could name him Matthew Clayton Elliott Cooper.”
I turned to her for a second and smiled. “Really?” I said.
“Think about it,” Gloria said. “By the time you’re starting to think seriously about retirement, your son could take over the business, like you did with Clay and like he did with his father. It would come full circle and the business would eventually be run by a Matt Cooper again. Somehow that just feels right, doesn’t it?”
“That’s great if we have a son,” I said. “What if you double-cross me and have give me a daughter?”
“Well then,” Gloria said. “There’s no question. She’ll be named Moon Unit Cooper.”
Gloria got the reaction she was after and threw her head back and let out a hardy laugh. She pointed her finger at me and said, “You should see your face right about now.”
I had to admit it was a good one and laughed along with her. We were still giggling as we walked up to Dad’s porch and rang the door bell. We didn’t wait for him to answer the door. We just let ourselves in.
“Anyone at home?” I said.
“In here,” Dad answered from the living room.
Gloria and I walked in and sat across from Dad. He grabbed the television remote and muted the sound on the program he’d been watching.
“Did you get the message I left at the office?” Dad said.
“We got it,” I said. “But we decided to stop by instead of calling back.” I reached over and held Gloria’s hand and then
looked into Dad’s eyes. “We got married this afternoon,” I said.
Dad sat up straight. “You what?”
Gloria stood and then reached out for Dad’s hands, pulling him to a standing position. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “We flew to Las Vegas and got married, Dad.”
It was the first time that she’d called Clay ‘Dad’ and it sounded a bit strange coming from her. Dad must have thought so, too, by the look on his face. Gloria released him and they both sat again.
“What brought this on?” Dad said. “Isn’t this kind of sudden?”
I explained to Dad about how I’d seen the name Gloria Campbell in this morning’s obituaries and how it gave me a new perspective on life and how it can turn on a dime. I left out the part about Gloria and me having the argument and how she caught a bus back to Hollywood.
“That’s terrific,” Dad said. “But what about…?”
“We figured that out,” Gloria said. “We’re going to have an actual reception next month or maybe we’ll even wait until after the holidays. We want you there, of course. And we want to invite all our friends and family to help us celebrate.”
“When you actually set a date for this reception,” Dad said, “I want to help with the arrangements. Lord knows I have enough free time on my hands for it and I really want to help. Okay?”
Gloria nodded. “That would be great, Dad.”
Dad held up one finger. “Uh, Gloria,” he said. “I know it’s somewhat of a tradition to call your father-in-law Dad, but could I ask a small favor of you?”
“Don’t call you Dad?” she said.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Dad said. “Please just go on calling me Clay. Clay doesn’t feel as old as when you call me Dad.”
“Clay it is,” Gloria said.
“What about me?” I said.
“I can just call you Elliott,” Gloria said, smirking.
“I was talking to Dad,” I said. “Oh, never mind. The spontaneity went out of that joke when you interrupted the flow.”
“So where are you kids going to live?” Dad said.
“We were just talking about that on the way over here,” Gloria said. “We haven’t quite decided yet.”
“You have to let me get you a house warming gift,” Dad said, turning to Gloria. “Do you have a preference? Would you prefer a .38 caliber of perhaps a .45?”
Gloria started to say something and then caught the glint in Clay’s eye. She smiled at him. “Good one, Clay. What’s next, a vacuum cleaner shaped like a bazooka?”
“Well,” I said, rising from the sofa. “We have to get going.”
“So soon?” Dad said. “You just got here.”
“Uh, Dad,” I said. “This is our wedding night, after all. As much as we enjoy your company…”
Dad held up one hand. “Say no more,” he told us. “Are you planning a honeymoon right away?” I thought I saw him and Gloria exchange a glance for a second.
I shook my head. “Maybe after the holidays,” I said. “We still have a business to run and besides, it would work out better to have it right after the reception. We can always just close the office for a week.”
“Or I could sit there and at least answer the phone for you while you’re gone,” Dad said, a bit of eagerness in his voice.
“We’ll see,” I said. “Good night. We just wanted you to be the first to know about our marriage. Good night, Dad.”
We were all standing now. Dad walked us to the door and shook my hand and hugged Gloria once more before he closed the door. Gloria and I walked back to the car. Before I started the engine I looked at Gloria. “What was that look all about?” I said.
“What look was that?” Gloria said.
“That look Dad gave you right after he said something about our honeymoon?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Gloria said. “I didn’t notice any look from Clay. Are you sure he was looking at me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, either,” I said. “I just thought he gave you a strange look there for a second. Maybe I was wrong. So where are we staying tonight?”
“Can we stay at my place tonight?” Gloria said. “We can make up our minds about a permanent solution tomorrow. Remember, it is our wedding night. Promise me you’ll be gentle.”
“You mean gentler than I have been for the past how many months now?” I said.
“Exactly,” Gloria said and laid her head on my shoulder as we drove home.
*****
A week later, I got a call from Eric Anderson at the twelfth precinct. He’d recently been promoted to Lieutenant shortly after Dean Hollister retired for the second time. He asked if we could meet over coffee sometime this morning. I told him I would and asked if he was familiar with a coffee shop on the boulevard called The Gold Cup. He said he was and we agreed to meet at nine-thirty. Eric was already sitting in a booth when I walked in. He gestured toward the opposite side of the booth and invited me to sit. Eric extended his hand and I shook it.
“Elliott,” he said. “I know we’ve crossed paths in the past, but we’ve never really had the chance to just sit and talk and get to know each other. I also know that you and Lieutenant Hollister were pretty close.”
“Not as close as Dean and my dad,” I said. “They grew up together and their fathers worked together for a long time as well.”
“There’s a lot of history there,” Eric said. “How is your dad these days?”
“Dad’s doing well,” I said. “Retirement agrees with him. But you didn’t call me down here to talk about Dad. What’s up?”
“Well,” Eric said, “I’ve had several occasions to talk with Dean regarding manpower issues. That is, when our department finds our officers spread a little thin, Dean told me I could call on you and your investigations business for occasional help. I guess what I’m asking is, are you available to help out on a case we’re involved with? It would just be a temporary situation, but we could use a couple extra people for a while, if you’re interested.”
“What kind of case is it?” I said.
The waitress came by with a coffee pot and asked Eric if he’d like a refill. He held his cup out and she filled it. She turned to me and asked if I’d like some. I waved her off but asked if I could have a small glass of milk.
“There have been a series of gas station holdups in the neighborhood recently,” Eric said. “The guy never hits the same place twice and staking out all the gas stations around here takes more men than I have available to me at the moment. What I would need from you is to pay a visit to some of these stations, talk to the owners or attendants and just get a feel for the places. Ask if they’ve noticed anything or anyone out of the ordinary recently and just keep me in the loop with your progress.”
“You have nothing more to go on?” I said.
“Only one thing seems to be constant,” Eric said. “The guy always comes into these places wearing a green bath towel over his face. We’ve tagged him as the Green Towel Bandit.
“The Green Towel Bandit,” I said. “How obvious is that?”
“Thing is,” Eric said, “He’s in and out in under a minute every time. By the time we’re called he’s long gone. Is this something you’d be interested in?”
“How long a job are we talking here?” I said.
“I just need you, and possibly Gloria as well, for three or four days,” Eric said. “Just until a few more of my men come back from vacation.”
“Count us in,” I said. “How soon did you need us to start?”
“Does tonight work for you?” Eric said. “I could start you out on the east end of Sunset Boulevard, say the forty-five hundred block where Sunset meets Hollywood Boulevard and you could work your way west as far as Fairfax and back again. That’s just about five miles each way. There is something like fourteen or fifteen gas stations on that route. You should be able to make the route, round trip three or four times a night.
A couple nights on that route could be all it takes
. What would you charge me?”
“Well,” I said, “Our regular rate is two hundred dollars a day plus expenses. I’d give you a break at one-fifty plus expenses. Gas will probably run you fifty bucks and figure three days. Call it five bills for the three days.”
Eric extended his hand again. “Deal,” he said. “Let me know what you find, if anything.”
I finished the last of my glass of milk and slid out of the booth. Eric left a tip on the table and followed me out to the street. “Tell Gloria thanks from me, will you?”
“Will do,” I said, and slid behind the wheel of my car.
I drove back to the office and found Gloria still working on the computer at her desk. “Looks like we’ve got us a case to work on,” I said. “We start tonight on Sunset.”
“Doing what?” Gloria asked.
I explained what Eric wanted from us. At the rate that I had quoted Eric, Gloria thought that we were stealing his money. Actually it was the taxpayers’ money but I didn’t feel like debating that issue and let it drop.
“Any calls while I was out?” I said.
“Just one,” Gloria said, handing me the pink memo slip.
The name on the slip said, ‘Barry Armstrong’ along with a Hollywood number but no message. “Doesn’t say here what he wanted,” I said, holding up the slip.
“That’s because he wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Gloria explained. “He insisted on talking to you so I just took his name and number and told him that you’d get back to him when you returned.”
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 221